


Those Gay, Happy Meetings

by to-a-merrier-world (wayward_wolves)



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cat Frodo, Cats, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Fluff, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-14
Updated: 2015-12-14
Packaged: 2018-05-06 17:54:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5426306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wayward_wolves/pseuds/to-a-merrier-world
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"bagginshield au where bilbo’s cat keeps wandering onto thorin’s lawn and just chilling because he hasn’t bothered to mow it in ages, and one time thorin brings some chicken with him when he goes to pet the cat that wanders onto his lawn and bilbo comes by looking for his cat."</p><p>This mostly fits this prompt, with a few changes to make it more Christmas-y.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Those Gay, Happy Meetings

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lily_winterwood](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lily_winterwood/gifts).



> So, I hope you enjoy this! I had fun writing it, though I wrote it all in two days after finals, so hopefully it's alright. Also, this is my first ever bagginshield fic, so hopefully I did them justice.
> 
> The title is from "It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year" cause I love Christmas music, and because it was too hilarious a line not to use it.
> 
> Anyways, here you are! Merry Christmas!

This was just not what Bilbo needed tonight. It was Christmas Eve, his extended family had _finally_ left for their own homes after their annual Christmas Family Dinner, he'd just finished cleaning up and had been about to sit down for a nice cup of tea in front of the fire before bed, when he noticed that he hadn’t seen Frodo, his dear, dear cat Frodo, since his family had left.

He’d tried not to worry, since Frodo went wandering about outside quite often, disappearing for hours at a time, the curious bugger, but then it had started _snowing_ and it was already freezing outside, and Frodo was such a _small_ cat…

Bilbo threw his warmest coat on over his pajamas, pulled on his boots, grabbed his gold scarf and ran outside to go looking for Frodo.

He stood on his porch for a moment, looking out into the night to see if he could catch a glimpse of his curious little cat.

“Frodo! Here, kitty-kitty,” Bilbo called. When he didn’t get an answer after five minutes of calling, Bilbo resigned himself to go wandering about the neighborhood, looking for his cat.

He trudged through the snow that had built up on his walk way, and started down the snow-covered street, stopping and calling for Frodo every few meters.

He’d been out for half an hour looking, when the wind started picking up. Bilbo pulled his coat tighter around himself, tucking his hands under his arms to keep them warm and grumbling over having forgotten his gloves. It truly was quite miserable out.

It had started snowing in earnest now, and it was beginning to be difficult to see. Bilbo was finally admitting to himself that he was _worried_.

 _What if Frodo was hiding underneath someone’s shed? Or inside someone’s car?_ He thought.

So, Bilbo kept trudging through the snow, cupping his hands around his mouth to amplify his cries. He called and called, but still, no answer.

It was starting to get late, people’s little ones having been put to bed hours earlier (even if they didn’t sleep for excitement for the coming morning). Bilbo finally decided that it would probably be best if he just went back home and waited to see if Frodo came back. He always had in the past, after all. And he was a smart cat and would know how to find his way home.

Still convincing himself that Frodo really would be fine, Bilbo turned back and started through the snow towards his home. He kept calling on his way back, hoping that, perhaps, Frodo would be close enough to hear this time around.

The snow and wind had both picked up by the time Bilbo made it to his street. _Goodness,_ he thought. _I do hope the power doesn’t go out tonight_.

He was two houses down from his own, when he saw the silhouette of a person standing at his door. While he watched, the person knocked on his door, seemingly not for the first time. They looked like they were holding something, but Bilbo couldn’t tell for sure.

Bilbo hurried his steps in order to catch the person at his door step. When they turned and started to walk away from Bilbo’s door, Bilbo called out to them.

“Wait! Wait! I’m here,” he called. The person turned towards him, one foot still on Bilbo’s porch step. Bilbo hurried towards the figure, and was panting a bit when he reached them from having jogged through the snow.

When he finally looked up at the figure, he saw that he _was_ carrying something. It was… “Frodo!” Bilbo cried out. Bundled up in a blue, snow-speckled blanket was his dear Frodo, looking quite comfortable snuggled up in this stranger’s arms. Speaking of…

“Oh, goodness, thank you so much!” Bilbo said, beaming up at the stranger. He couldn’t really make out his face since he was backlit by the porchlight and his face was partially obscured by a hat and scarf. But from what he could see, the man had a rather large, straight nose and long, dark hair that was pulled back in a ponytail at his neck.

“He’s yours, then?” the man asked in a deep voice. _It’s almost melodious_ , Bilbo thought. _I wonder if he sings. Oh, not now, old boy, pay attention!_

“Oh, yes, he’s mine. Little Frodo,” Bilbo replied. “He gets out and wanders quite often, and usually I don’t really worry about him, since he always comes back, you know, but then it started snowing, and it’s looking like we’ll likely get quite a bit tonight, and he’s such a small thing…”

Bilbo stopped his rambling when the stranger’s eyebrows disappeared underneath his hat. The man huffed in a way that sounded an awful lot like a chuckle, but Bilbo couldn’t be sure.

“Yes, well. Would you like to come in for a cup of tea? It’s the least I can do for your help,” Bilbo said, a little miffed by the man’s reaction, but still grateful for his help. He _did_ actually remember the manners his father had taught him, after all. Even if he didn’t always _use_ them.

The man seemed to consider for a moment before replying, in that same deep, rumbling voice, “Alright.”

Bilbo slipped past the man and unlocked his door, holding it open for the man to enter first.

Bilbo closed the door behind him and started unwinding his scarf from round his neck and toeing off his boots.

“If you could just wait a moment,” Bilbo said, bending over to loosen the laces on his boots. “I’ll go grab some towels to dry us all off.”

Finally getting his boots off, Bilbo turned down the hallway, calling over his shoulder, “I’ll just be a moment!”

After stopping off in his room to hang up his jacket, and to throw his robe on over his pajamas, Bilbo stopped in the bathroom to get towels. He quickly ran a towel over his own hair, which had gotten quite wet from the snow, since he’d forgotten to wear a hat.

Still drying his hair, Bilbo walked back into the front room where he’d left the stranger with his cat.

In the time Bilbo had been gone, the man had removed his hat and scarf, and was now attempting to remove his boots. While still holding Frodo.

Bilbo snorted at the odd little dance the man was doing, trying to keep his balance. The man jumped a bit in surprise, finally pulling the boot free, and almost losing his balance in the process before catching himself on the wall.

“Oh, sorry, didn’t mean to give you a fright,” Bilbo said, voice filled with mirth.

The man straightened, looking as dignified as a man could while wet with snow, wearing only one boot, and holding a bundle full of cat.

“You didn’t surprise me,” the man replied, far too quickly, and… _was that a blush?_   Bilbo thought. _Oh my goodness, this man is_ adorable.

Biting back any comments on the man’s adorableness, Bilbo opened his mouth to make a sarcastic reply to the man’s very obvious lie when he came to a sudden realization.

“Oh goodness, I can’t believe I was so rude!” Bilbo cried. He rushed forward, brandishing his towels at the man in lieu of a handshake. “I’m Bilbo. Bilbo Baggins,” he said, pushing a towel at the man.

Eyes wide with a look of someone confronted with a small, but unpredictable wild animal, the man readjusted his grip on Frodo before slowly taking the towel from Bilbo’s outstretched hand. Realizing that, no, Bilbo wasn’t actually going to attack, he was just a bit…excitable, the man huffed and started rubbing the towel over his hair.

“Thorin Oakenshield,” he replied after wiping his face with the towel.

While Thorin continued attempting to dry his hair one handed, Bilbo finally got a good look at the man.

He was tall and broad, and though it was hard to tell while he was wearing a coat, based on his hands, Bilbo would bet his mother’s favorite quilt that he was muscular, too. His hair went past his collarbone and was a dark, almost black brown with streaks of silver at the front. His face was half covered in a dark, short-cropped beard, which only served to highlight his already attractive features.

And his eyes…they were a truly unique shade of blue, Bilbo had never seen before. They were piercing, like glacial ice, but warm in a way that reminded Bilbo of a fire, and they were…staring right at him. _Shit._

“Um, right, well,” Bilbo stammered a bit awkwardly, flustered over being caught staring. “Tea, then?” Bilbo asked, looking back up to meet Thorin’s gaze, smiling and pretending he wasn’t just staring unabashedly at the stranger.

When Bilbo met his eyes, they were crinkled at the edges in a way that made it look like Thorin was smiling without ever actually moving his mouth.

“That would be lovely,” Thorin said, voice sounding warmer than before, before handing the towel back to Bilbo and making a move to walk down the hallway.

“Oh, wait, let me get your coat,” Bilbo said, reaching for the bundle of Frodo that Thorin was still carrying.

Thorin took a step back, frowning down at the cat bundle he still cradled in his arms. He hesitated a moment before finally handing Frodo to Bilbo, frown still firmly in place.

Bilbo raised a confused eyebrow, but didn’t comment on the man’s sudden mood change. He took the bundle into his arms, cooing down at his cat.

“Silly little cat. Can’t believe you worried me like that, you little bugger,” Bilbo cradled the cat bundle with one arm and used his other hand to stroke a finger down Frodo’s head, from nose to ears, just the way he liked it.

Frodo endured the petting for a moment before he started to wiggle, clearly having had quite enough of being held for the time being.

“Fine, fine. Off with you, now, you trouble maker,” Bilbo said, helping Frodo get free of his blanket prison and setting him down on the floor.

Frodo sprinted down the hallway, turning the corner and disappearing to do…whatever it was he did when Bilbo wasn’t in the room.

Turning back to Thorin, who had by now taken off his coat and was holding it awkwardly in his large hands, Bilbo clapped his hands together.

“Right, so, let me just hang that up for you,” Bilbo said, taking Thorin’s coat from his hands and hanging it on the coat rack by the door that usually only held scarves and hats. “Now, let’s go see about that tea, shall we?” Bilbo said, turning and smiling up at Thorin.

Thorin nodded, gesturing for Bilbo to lead the way. Bilbo turned and led them down the hallway, stopping by the laundry room to drop off the towels, and into the kitchen/dining room of his small-ish cottage.

“Please, have a seat. I’ll just get the water started,” Bilbo said, turning away and grabbing the kettle to fill with water for the tea. After setting the kettle to boil, Bilbo went about getting two cups out, “Cream and sugar?” “Yes, please.”, and a small plate of cinnamon biscuits his favorite cousin, Primula, had made him.

He placed those on the table Thorin had sat at, awkwardly holding his hands in his lap, and turned back to the stove when the kettle started whistling. He busied himself fixing the tea, and then turned back to the table and poured some into each of the cups. He placed the teapot on a little mat on the table and picked up one of the cups and handed it to Thorin, who accepted it with a nod of thanks.

Bilbo picked up his own, breathing in the smell of the freshly brewed tea, before taking a sip. Bilbo sat back, watching as Thorin added a spoonful of sugar and a splash of cream to his own tea. After he took his own sip of tea, nodding in approval at the taste, he looked up, catching Bilbo’s gaze.

Bilbo smiled. “So, how exactly did you come by Frodo? I mean, thank you so much for bringing him back to me, I really do appreciate it, I was terribly worried about him. But, well. He’s usually very difficult to catch, and he doesn’t usually let strangers pick him up. He’s a curious bugger, but he’s smart,” Bilbo said, taking another sip of his tea.

Thorin looked down at his tea, which he cradled in his two large hands. He seemed a bit embarrassed, though Bilbo had no idea why he would be.

“He started coming by my house about three months ago,” Thorin said, still watching his tea and not meeting Bilbo’s eyes, slowly turning his cup in his hands.

“My grass is rather long, since I don’t have much time for mowing, with work. He liked to play in it, and my nephews, they’re five and eight,” Thorin said, finally glancing up to look at Bilbo with a small smile on his face. _God, this man’s adorable_ , Bilbo thought, nodding to show he was still following.

“Well, when they’d come by, they liked to play with Frodo. He wouldn’t let them get too close, but he’d still play along, let them think they had a chance of catching him before jumping out of the way. I’d never seen such a playful cat,” Thorin chuckled a bit, and _wow, was that a deep laugh._ Bilbo suppressed a shiver. _God, get your mind out of the gutter, and_ pay attention.

“One day, I decided to see who he belonged to, make sure he wasn’t lost or something,” Thorin said. “So, I got some chicken and was able to coax him close enough for me to read the tag on his collar.”

“Ah,” Bilbo said with a small laugh, setting his cup down after taking a sip. “That explains it then. Frodo _loves_ chicken. It’s his favorite treat. He’ll instantly love anyone who gives him any.”

Thorin smiled, _wow did he have a gorgeous smile_ , and said, “Yes, he did seem to warm up to me quite quickly after that.”

He kept smiling and looking at Bilbo, Bilbo doing the same, before they both seemed to realize they were just smiling and staring into each other’s eyes. Thorin turned away, a slight blush coming to his cheeks as he coughed awkwardly. Bilbo busied himself by taking another sip of tea, almost choking in his haste.

“Anyway,” Thorin said after a moment. “When I saw that he lived only about six block away, I figured he was just wandering about, so I didn’t worry. Tonight, though, when my sister and nephews were leaving after dinner, Kíli, my youngest nephew, spotted Frodo in my yard, almost completely sunken in the snow.”

Thorin paused a moment in his story to take a sip of his tea. He swallowed, then continued, hands still wrapped around the warm cup.

“So, I picked him up and brought him inside to dry him off. It had started snowing, so I was worried he wouldn’t be able to find his way home. So, I wrapped Frodo up in a spare blanket to keep him warm, and walked to where his tag said he lived. And, so, here I am,” Thorin said, gesturing about him to encompass Bilbo’s home.

“Yes, here you are,” Bilbo said with a smile. “Really, thank you so much for bringing Frodo here. I really should get him a tag with my phone number instead. That way kind strangers like you won’t have to trudge through the snow to bring my silly cat home.”

Thorin looked down at his tea, but not before Bilbo caught a small smile on his lips. Getting control of his face again, Thorin looked up and almost solemnly nodded at Bilbo.

“It was my pleasure,” he said, before his frown faltered at the corners, betraying his mirth. He tilted his head down a bit, before lifting his eyes to look at Bilbo through his eyelashes, an actual smile spreading across his lips. “And it turned out quite in my favor I’d say.”

This time it was Bilbo’s turn to blush. He laughed a bit nervously, looking down at his hands still wrapped around his tea cup, and _god, what was he, a twelve year old school boy? He’s a middle aged man, for chrissake, he shouldn’t be getting flustered over a bit of flirting._

“Yes, well,” Bilbo said, chuckling a bit awkwardly before looking up and meeting Thorin’s eyes. They looked at each other for a moment, each seemingly lost in their own thoughts. Then, Bilbo broke the moment by looking down and taking a sip of his tea. Thorin leaned back in his chair, seeming to relax a bit, before bringing his own cup up to his lips.

“So,” Bilbo said, placing his hands flat on either side of his mug and leaning forward a bit. “You mentioned work. What do you do?”

“I co-own a jewelry business,” he replied, setting his now empty cup on the table. “A cousin of mine owns it with me, Dwalin Fundin. We do mostly specialty orders, though we also have pre-made goods. It’s all hand-made by Dwalin and myself.”

He said this all with a clear note of pride in his voice. It made Bilbo smile at the thought of Thorin bent over a work table, hair pulled back as his large hands crafted beautiful and delicate works of art made from metal and jewels. Not that he had any idea how jewelry was made, but his imagination was more than up to the task.

“And you?” Thorin asked with genuine curiosity. “What is it you do?”

“Ah,” Bilbo said, bringing his cup to his lips to take a sip, only to find it empty. He placed his cup on the table before continuing.

“I’m a writer. Mostly non-fiction, histories and such, but I do have some fiction works. A few children’s books.”

Thorin hummed, sounding impressed, his eyebrows raised. “Anything I’d have heard of? “

“Hm, possibly?” Bilbo said. “You’d probably know my children’s books more than anything else, because of your nephews. Perhaps, _There and Back Again_? Or _The Little Green Door_?”

Thorin perked up. “Yes, yes,” he said, nodding. “ _The Little Green Door_ is Fíli’s, my eldest nephew’s, favorite book!” he said excitedly. _And, god, could this man get any cuter?_

“Really?” Bilbo said with a grin. “My, what a small world. I’m so glad he enjoys it!”

“Oh, he really does,” he said, chuckling, taking a biscuit from the plate and biting into it. “He has his mother read it to him every night, and he carries it around with him everywhere he goes. It’s actually in pretty terrible shape, now.”

“Oh?” Bilbo said, considering. “I could give you a copy to give him. I have a whole box full in my office,” he said, gesturing vaguely towards the ceiling. “I could even sign it! It’d make a nice Christmas present for the lad.”

Thorin’s eyes widened a bit, hands coming up in front of him, biscuit still in hand. “Oh, I couldn’t possibly ask you to…”

“Oh, nonsense!” Bilbo interrupted, waving a hand in front of him, standing up and turning towards the door, intent on getting the book. “I have an entire box full of them, just collecting dust. Really, you’d be doing me a favor, taking one off my hands!”

Before Thorin could protest further, Bilbo disappeared down the hallway and up the stairs. He was only gone for a moment before he came back to the kitchen, book and pen in hand. When he turned the corner, he stopped in the doorway to the kitchen to take in the sight in front of him.

Frodo had finally turned up again, apparently finished with whatever cat business he had, and was now laying in Thorin’s lap. The man was smiling down at the little brown tabby, one large hand scratching behind his ears, while the other stroked his back. He could practically hear Frodo purring from across the room.

Bilbo bit his lip, fighting the urge to get his phone out and snap a picture of the scene, before backing out of the doorway, purposely making his steps louder to announce his presence.

Thorin looked up, a small smile still playing on his lips.

“My, he’s quite taken with you, isn’t he?” Bilbo said, setting the book down and taking his seat.

“Ah,” Thorin chuckled. “It certainly seems like it, doesn’t it?” he said, glancing down at Frodo while scratching his head again.

“Well,” Bilbo said, looking down at the new copy of _The Little Green Door_ on the table. “What should I write for your nephew?”

“Oh, I’m no writer,” Thorin replied. “I’m sure whatever you come up with will be wonderful,” he said, smiling at Bilbo.

“Oh, hmm, alright,” Bilbo said, taking pen in hand and opening the book to the cover page.

“Dear Fíli,” he began, writing as he spoke. “May your dreams be always filled with adventure,” he said, smiling a bit to himself. “Happy Christmas, Bilbo Baggins.”

He looked up at Thorin to see what he thought of the dedication and found him giving Bilbo a soft smile. Bilbo stared for a moment before clearing his throat and closing the book.

“Right, well, here you are, then,” Bilbo said, smiling and handing the book to Thorin.

“Thank you,” Thorin replied, taking the book and placing it on the table beside his empty tea cup.

“So,” Bilbo said, standing up to fix another cup of tea for them both. “Tell me about your nephews.”

They continued talking for what must have been hours, going through all kinds of topics. Their conversation flowed with ease, both of them teasing the other as though they were old friends instead of near strangers. It was strange, how comfortable it all was, but Bilbo decided not to question it.

Soon enough, they’d gone through two more cups of tea and an entire plate of cinnamon biscuits. They’d lulled into a comfortable silence by now, not awkward the way Bilbo would have assumed. It was…nice.

“Well,” Bilbo said, with a bit of disappointment. “It’s getting awfully late, and I don’t want to keep you any longer,” he stood up and placed his tea cup in the sink. “I’m sure you’d like to get back to your wife or…”

“No wife. Or husband,” Thorin replied, watching Bilbo’s face before placing Frodo on the floor and standing up to place his cup in the sink as well. “I’m single,” he added quickly, standing directly in front of Bilbo.

“Oh,” Bilbo said, a bit surprised, having to tilt his head up a little to look Thorin in the face. _How was such an attractive man single? And was that a not-so-subtle hint that he’s interested?_

“Me, too,” Bilbo said. “I mean, I’m single, too.”

They stared at each other for a moment, before Thorin blurted out in a rush, “Would you like to get dinner sometime, then?”

He pressed his lips together afterwards, a light blush rising to what skin was visible on his cheeks.

“Dinner would be lovely,” Bilbo said, smiling up at Thorin, his own blush dusting his cheeks.

The smile Thorin gave Bilbo was breathtakingly beautiful. They stood there, grinning at each other like fools, before the moment was shattered by Frodo meowing loudly.

They both looked down at Frodo, before glancing up at each other and laughing a bit.

“Well then,” Bilbo said. “Let me walk you to the door.”

They turned and Bilbo led them to the front hallway. There, he helped Thorin into his coat and then handed him his scarf, hat, and the blanket Frodo had been wrapped in after he pulled his boots on.

Frodo came padding into the front room, and Bilbo snatched him up so he wouldn’t get out a second time.

Thorin turned back to them, looking down at them with an almost fond smile.

“Well, then,” he murmured lowly. “I suppose I’d best be going, then.”

He smiled at Bilbo for a moment longer before turning away. Before opening the door, though, he stopped with a surprised sound and turned back around, reaching into his coat pocket and withdrawing a card.

“My business card,” he said as explanation, handing the card to Bilbo. “Call me?” he asked, a hopeful look on his face.

“Definitely,” Bilbo said, taking the card and tucking it into his robe with a smile.

Thorin’s answering smile was just as brilliant as the first, and then he was turning away and opening the door. He stepped out, Bilbo coming up to the door and leaning against the frame. Thorin turned around and looked down at Frodo in Bilbo’s arms.

“Goodnight, Frodo,” he said. “Try to stay out of trouble,” he teased, reaching over and scratching Frodo’s head one last time. He then looked up and into Bilbo’s eyes.

“Goodnight, Bilbo,” he said softly, a small smile on his lips.

“Goodnight, Thorin,” Bilbo replied, smiling just as softly.

Then, Thorin turned, stepping off the porch and taking the short path to the street, before turning back and giving a small, awkward wave, which Bilbo returned. Then he turned his back and made his way down the street.

Bilbo watched him until he turned the corner, out of sight, then he closed and locked the door. Bilbo leaned against the door and cuddled Frodo closer to his chest. Frodo mewed in response, bumping his head against Bilbo’s chin. Just them, the clock in his sitting room chimed, signaling that it was midnight.

Bilbo hid his smile in Frodo’s fur for a moment before lifting his face and starting his trek back upstairs, intent on going to bed.

“Happy Christmas, indeed,” Bilbo said, smile never leaving his face.


End file.
